Remember Mary
by RichardJ
Summary: Romance, mystery and adventure for a Bloody Jack fan wanting to escape the poverty and drudgery of her life in 1911 Ireland.
1. Chapter 1

Remember Mary. Part 1

Mr. L.A. Meyer is acknowledged as the creator of the Bloody Jack characters and story. Although parts of this story include real people and events, it is a work of fiction.

Thursday 15 November 1911. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced it all started on that day. It wasn't simply because it was my 17th birthday. As the eldest girl in a large family even I hardly noticed it was my birthday. Looking back on that special day it is difficult to say who was responsible for changing my life. A change which now finds me crossing the Atlantic to a new life in America. I think back ...

The day starts like any other with the usual chores, although for once the weather is kind and we can gather more fuel for winter. Father, and the six of us old enough to help, gather wood for most of the morning, while mother and my two youngest brothers stay in the cottage.

I call it a cottage, but it is is little more than a hut. Very small for the ten of us who live in it. But that is all that the owners of Kilmacowen Hall are willing to provide for their farmhands. So somehow we manage to get by. The dozen identical cottages clustered either side of the main road to Sligo, near the gatehouse leading to the Hall, form the village Kilmacowen. As my uncle Paddy once described it, Kilmacowen is a one-horse town; only without the horse.

The only work in these parts is in the fields or up at the Hall. Over the years the five generations of English squires of Kilmacowen Hall have purchased all the local farms from their original Irish owners. Usually for next to nothing. I've not met the current Lord Kilmacowen as he spends most of his time in England, although father has seen him. The new Lord has only recently inherited the title due to the sudden and unexpected death of his father in a hunting accident.

At least, they say it was a hunting accident. I'm not so young that I'm not aware of the trouble brewing across Ireland. I've seen the armed men skulking in the local woods. Those are the men who want Irish independence from England. While not too many miles away are other armed men, Unionists and Orangemen, who want Ireland and England to remain united. The old Lord Kilmacowen, like most English who own land in Ireland, supported the Unionists, and made a habit of hunting down any supporters of independence on his property, and throwing them off his land. Any caught carrying weapons were handed over to the law. My elder brother, Sean, heard rumours that Lord Kilmacowen met his fate hunting quarry that shoots back.

We comb the forest for fallen branches for our fire. The forest is not very large, and the area has probably already been scoured for firewood by any number of people already. But we manage to find a few pieces between us.

I'm so busy concentrating on looking for firewood that I don't notice the young man watching me. It is my younger sister, Moira, who points him out to me.

"Hey, Mary; you've got an admirer. He looks rather handsome," say Moira in a voice loud enough for the man to hear.

I stop and look at the man. He looks at me in return. Neither of us willing to give ground and turn our gaze away. Moira is right, he is rather handsome.

"You're not from around here," I say, "Are you lost?"

He puts on a mischievous grin.

"Well now, that depends. Does that road over there go to Dublin?"

He's asking a girl who has never been more than 5 miles from the place she was born. I've no idea how to get to Dublin. But I don't want to admit it to him.

"Now if I were going to Dublin, I wouldn't be starting from here. No; I'd be starting from Sligo. That road goes to Sligo, so best you take it as far as there."

He laughs. "My name is Patrick O'Connell. May I know your name, fair maid?"

"Her name is Mary Burns," answers Moira.

Any further conversation is interrupted by the sound of an approaching horse along the track through the forest. Patrick looks quickly around and seems very nervous. He reaches behind a tree and gathers a rifle. He slings it over his shoulder and comes over to me.

"I must leave, pretty Mary, but I hope we shall meet again soon."

With that he gives me a quick kiss and disappears into the thicket. The suddenness of his kiss and departure takes me by surprise, and it's not until Moira starts snickering that I return to my senses. But our frivolity is short lived. The horse we heard before appears along the track, and on its back is a well dressed young man in his twenties.

"You girls! What are you doing in my woods?" he calls in a strong English accent.

"We're just gathering firewood, m'Lord," replies father who has come running to join us.

"Hmmm. Well woe betide you if you damage any of my trees."

The rider stares at me for a while making me feel very uncomfortable.

"You girl. What's your name? Do you know how to make yourself presentable?"

"Mary, sir. Mary Burns. I … er …", I falter not knowing what he means by the second part of his question.

"Why is nearly every woman in this country called Mary? Do you have another name, girl?"

"Her middle name is Delia, m'Lord," replies father when he sees me getting flustered.

"Right. Clean her up and have her report for work at the Hall tomorrow morning. We have need of a new housemaid. The housekeeper will provide a uniform and she can sleep up at the Hall. Every second Sunday off to come and visit you."

Not a request but an order. With that he rides off. I've just been employed as a maid to Lord Kilmacowen's household. I don't know if I should be pleased or not. From father's reaction I can see he is worried.

But as ordered, a bath is prepared that evening and I scrub myself clean. The next morning father escorts me up to the Hall. I'm wearing my best dress and carrying my few belongings; among which is my one and only book, _Bloody Jack, the Curious Adventures of Mary "Jacky" Faber, ship's boy_ by Amy Trevelyne. A present from Uncle Paddy when he returned for his travels in America.


	2. Chapter 2

Remember Mary. Part 2 

I had at least managed to see my best friend, Margaret, yesterday afternoon to tell her my news. She made such a fuss and we both made sacred promises we would always be friends, no matter how far apart we were. She even promised to take me when she leaves for America to join her elder brother and two sisters in New York. On reflection, I think Margaret's reaction was a bit dramatic. Nevertheless it is the first time I have even thought about leaving Ireland.

Mother's reaction was no better. She got into a frightful state when she heard the news, and father had to take her for a walk to calm her down. When they returned she was very solemn and once the youngsters were asleep she took me aside and told me all sorts of things. The sorts of things I had only half imagined. Things Sean has teased me about since I was 14. Adult things. Why tell me now though? Surely mother and father don't think I'd do anything improper? I'm a good girl.

The walk to the Hall takes about half-an-hour. Father lectures me the whole journey on what I should and should not do. To be honest, I'm not really listening and maybe things would have turned out differently if I had. Or perhaps not. I'd like to think if father knew what lay ahead he would have refused to let me work at the Hall.

But it is a sad feature of our life that Lord Kilmacowen has absolute authority over all of us. He could evict us from our cottage on the merest excuse and send us all away to starve. No law officer or court would help us. Indeed, the law would only ensure we took nothing that didn't belong to us as we left. If Lord Kilmacowen says I am to work at the Hall, then work at the Hall I must.

But those thoughts are far from my mind as we walk up the long drive to the Hall. All I can think about is how grand the Hall looks. It must have fifty rooms at least. And unlike the poorly repaired cottages of Kilmacowen village, the Hall and its gardens are immaculately maintained.

Father leads me to a door around the side of the great house. He has obviously been here before to know this door exists. He knocks and after a short wait the door is answered by a man in his fifties. The man seems friendly enough and he greets father as a long lost friend. He invites us in and we find ourselves in a room the size of our cottage. A roaring fire keeps the room warm and heats the pans on the cast iron hob set next to the fireplace. An elderly woman tends to the pots. I later learn this is the servants kitchen and dining area.

"His Lordship told me to expect you. So this is your young Mary, hmm?" says the man to father.

I curtsy in response and he smiles.

"Save your curtsies for the gentry, my dear. I'm Liam, Liam Devaney. You know my niece, Margaret, I don't doubt."

"Yes, sir," I reply. Margaret had once mentioned her uncle was the butler at the Hall, but didn't speak of him much.

"This here is Mary Flanagan. Old Mary's a bit deaf, so you'll have to shout. She looks after the servants' meals and helps with the laundry. A kinder lord would have given her a cottage and a pension years ago, but the Kilmacowen's are not noted for their generosity. Still, at least they didn't throw her out and leave her to beg on the streets of Sligo.

I say hello to the half-blind and almost totally deaf woman. She smiles and mutters something I can't make out.

"I'll go and let the housekeeper, Mrs. Fletcher, know you've arrived. Mind you keep in her good books, Mary. She doesn't spare the rod with maids who don't meet her exacting standards."

I look nervously at father, but he only gives a weak smile in return.

"Don't worry, Mary. You'll do us all proud, I'm sure."

I don't share father's confidence and I suspect deep down he doesn't either. If I had a free choice I would leave here at once. But I don't, so I can't.

Liam returns with Mrs. Fletcher. She enters the room like royalty. Liam doesn't linger and returns to his duties.

"Right then. So you're Delia. … Hmmm. I suppose you'll do. Can't be any worse than the last wretched girl."

I'm about to tell her my name is Mary, but a signal from father makes me hold my tongue at the last minute. She comes over to me and gives me a very close examination.

"Hmmm. Moderately clean. Could have been worse. You'll be sharing a room with Kate in the attic. She'll show you your duties for the first few days. I suggest you say goodbye to your father. He'll be leaving in a few minutes."

She leaves the room briefly while father and I share a heartfelt farewell. Mrs. Fletcher returns with a girl my age dressed in a black and white maid's uniform.

"This is Kate. Kate, this is Delia. She's replacing what's-her-name. Take her to your room and settle her in. I'll send her a uniform up shortly."

Kate bobs a short curtsy in response and takes one of my two bags. I grab the other as she leads me towards a narrow flight of stairs at the back of the room. I take a quick look back at father, only to see Mrs. Fletcher showing him out the door we entered.

We climb three flights to reach a dimly lit passageway that branches left and right connecting the servants sleeping quarters.

"This end of the passageway are the female servants rooms; the the rooms at the other end are for the men. You're not allowed down there, and they aren't allowed at this end."

Kate's room, now our room, is midway along the passageway. The room is just big enough for two beds either side of the door with a wash stand at the foot of the beds, underneath a small window. We each have a couple of deep shelves for our clothes and other belongings. A couple of candles is all we are provided for both light and heat.

Kate helps me unpack my few things. She eyes my warm shawl which mother made for me last Christmas.

"I'd love one of these," Kate sighs. "Oh, you have a book. Can you read? I wish I could."

"I'll teach you when we have time," I reply. Her smile tells me we are going to be the best of friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Remember Mary. Part 3

My first few days at Kilmacowen Hall are hectic. I follow Kate around like a lost sheep. She and I are responsible for attending to the ground floor rooms, all sixteen of them. Ruby and Claire are the housemaids for the upstairs bedrooms. After a week I think I can remember all my duties.

My day starts at 5 o'clock when Kate and I must light the fires in four of the rooms. Then we must help prepare the breakfast table for Lord and Lady Kilmacowen. Lord Kilmacowen enters the breakfast room at precisely 8 o'clock, followed ten or fifteen minutes later by the less punctual Lady Kilmacowen. Liam Devaney supervises while one of the footmen serves Lord Kilmacowen. Either Kate or I serve Lady Kilmacowen, while the other goes to prepare her sitting room, where she usually spends most of the morning.

Lord Kilmacowen always leaves after breakfast, either to tour his estates, or go into Sligo on business. Lady Kilmacowen reads or writes when she is not receiving guests, or discussing the running of the household with Mrs. Fletcher. Either way, it is an opportunity for all the staff to gather in the servants' dining room and have our own breakfast. We don't have long though, as Kate and I must complete our morning duties of dusting and cleaning well before lunch time.

Afternoons start with a meeting with Mrs. Fletcher to receive our instructions for the rest of the day. Depending on whether guests are expected, we will prepare one or more rooms for afternoon tea and entertainment. There are very few days when Lady Kilmacowen isn't hosting at least six of her lady friends.

By contrast, Lord Kilmacowen only entertains his male friends on Saturdays. Mrs. Fletcher has made it clear that unless we are specifically asked to perform some duty, we are to make ourselves scarce from any room used by Lord Kilmacowen when he has guests.

My favourite part of the day is in the evening when all my duties are done. Kate and I join the other servants for an evening meal and a chance to catch up on the day's gossip. Liam frowns when when we tittle-tattle about today's visitors. But we never gossip about Lord or Lady Kilmacowen. Kate warned me on my first day that I would be dismissed in disgrace if I ever spoke out of turn about them.

Despite the busy days and strict rules I must follow, I find I enjoy the work and the company of the other servants. My first week's pay of one pound fifteen shillings makes me feel quite giddy. I've never had money before. But like a good girl I put it aside to give to father when I get my next day off.

Some days we have a quiet half hour in the morning when I read my Bloody Jack book to Kate. She can recognise many letters, and can read a few simple words by the end of the first week. Like me, she notices the similarity of Liam's name to the character in the book. Kate also tells me Mrs. Fletcher has a son called James who is 16 years old. He is away at boarding school at the moment but will be here for Christmas.

As Christmas approaches I feel settled in my work routine. It's Sunday and I'm making my second visit home. With winter now in full swing the family need more warm clothing. My earnings make the difference between freezing and having enough clothing to get through winter. When I look at my family home I realise how quickly I have become accustomed to the relative comfort of the tiny room I share with Kate. At the Hall the kitchen is always warm, and we get two regular meals a day.

Although it is still only late afternoon, the sun has set when I make my way back to the Hall. Father escorts me and we talk as we make our way up the long drive.

"Will you be able to come home for Christmas, Mary?" he asks.

"I'm called Delia now, remember?" I say, harsher than I really intended.

He winces but doesn't say anything. I relent, not wanting to spoil our day together.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was used to all the changes in my life over this last month. … I don't think I'll be able to come home again until January. The Kilmacowen's have a number of important guests for Christmas and New Year and all the servants are required at the Hall."

"I was afraid of that. Listen, Mary, I want you to be very careful and keep your wits about you. Lord Kilmacowen is involved in something, and I think this gathering over Christmas is more than it seems. Do you remember Patrick O'Connell? The young man you met in the woods just before you started work at the Hall?"

The mention of Patrick makes my heart miss a beat. Yes, I remember him very well. That he has been the subject of more than one of my dreams at night is not something I feel able to share with father.

"Yes, I think I remember him," I reply weakly.

"Good. He'll be nearby keeping an eye on the Hall. If you need his help, hang your green shawl out of your bedroom window as a signal."

"But what is going to happen? Are we in danger?"

"I don't know. I don't think there's any danger, at least not to you. But if the rumours are true there's an odd assortment of very important people attending the Hall over Christmas. I just want to be sure you're alright."

We don't have time to talk any longer as we've reached the Hall and Liam has seen us. Anyway, my mind is not thinking about Lord Kilmacowen's Christmas guests. It's thinking about only one person.

Patrick O'Connell.

Father says a quick farewell, and I hurry through the servant's door, eager to get warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Remember Mary. Part 4

I enter the servants' dining room to find three young men I don't recognise sat warming themselves by the fire. Even old Mary has been moved from her usual place by the oven. My daydream about Patrick is broken as the three young men stare at me. One of them starts to stand up but is pulled back to his seat by the other two.

"She's only a servant, you ninny. Save your manners for the ladies," says the one nearest the fire.

"Now, now, Master Flashby. That's no way to talk while you're downstairs with us," interrupts Mrs. McBride, the cook.

She guides me towards the main kitchen, so that the three young men are left in peace.

"Who are they," I whisper to Mrs. McBride when we are safely out of earshot.

"The who was about to stand up is James Fletcher, Mrs. Fletcher's son. The other two are a couple of his schoolmates from boarding school. They're staying for a few days. Take my advice and keep well clear of them, my dear."

"How am I supposed to do that?" I ask.

"Follow Kate's example and keep to your room when you can. Poor Kate's already had one brush with the fat one. She says he pushed her into a corner while she was dusting in the library and made improper suggestions. If Liam hadn't come into the library just then, who knows what may have happened."

I promptly leave the kitchen and head up to my room to check on Kate. Fortunately she doesn't seem too distressed about the episode in the library. She is very philosophical about it and regards it as a hazard of the job. I'm not so certain I would react that way, and resolve to take the sort of precautions Jacky Faber would.

Over the next few days Kate and I follow Mrs. McBride's advice as best we can, but it is impossible to avoid them at meal times. I soon realise that the leader of their threesome is the obnoxious Henry Flashby. It was Flashby who accosted Kate in the library. The other two seem to go out of their way to impress Flashby by copying his rude behaviour. The only time they behave is when Liam or Mrs. Fletcher are around.

Unfortunately for Kate she seems to be the target of Flashby's clumsy amorous advances. While James Fletcher seems to have taken an interest in me. The soft spoken Robin seems embarrassed by the antics of his two friends. I suspect he secretly likes Kate, but is too afraid of Flashby to show his interest.

Kate and I do our best to ignore them, confident we can manage the few days until Flashby and Robin are due to leave. But to our dismay, we learn that their stay has been extended and they will be with us until after New Year. It is then we decide to enlist Ruby's help.

Ruby is a kind, well meaning girl, but no one would call her attractive. Some people mistake her portly build and rather giddy laugh as a sign she's a bit simple. She seems to encourage this impression, but I know she's nothing of the sort. By chance I discovered she's actively involved with those wanting Home Rule for Ireland. If Lord Kilmacowen ever found out, Ruby would be thrown out of the house and off his lands in an instant.

However, Ruby is the last person anyone would suspect of doing anything devious. Which makes her the perfect person for what we have in mind. Kate and I take her into our confidence and she agrees to help. She even suggests a few improvements to our scheme.

Three days before Christmas Eve and everything is ready. With Mrs. Fletcher's consent Ruby, Kate and I are allowed to go into the woods to gather mistletoe. Ruby, in an apparent careless moment, mentions our outing in the servant's dining room in front of Flashby. Before we know it our outing has doubled in size as three eager young lads join us in the hope of some fun and games deep in the woods.

Only the sort of games we have in mind are not those our companions intend. We wander through the woods towards our intended destination. We gather some mistletoe on the way and keep the conversation light. At one point I stop and suggest we go no deeper into the woods as they are not always safe in these troubled times. As I anticipated, Flashby dismisses my caution and proudly takes the lead. They say pride comes before a fall.

We enter a part of the woods known as Flynn's Gully. Apart from being the boundary of Lord Kilmacowen's estate, it is the sort of place anyone wanting to lurk about unseen would favour. Sure enough eight men come out of the trees to one side of us. They look menacing, but aren't carrying any weapons we can see. One of them is Patrick O'Connell. I know three of the others by sight from nearby villages, but the rest are strangers to me. I presume Ruby knows them all, since she is the one who arranged everything.

"Well now. To what do we owe the pleasure of this meeting?" asks one of the men to no-one in particular.

Our plan is to give the lads a scare and teach them a lesson. What none of us has anticipated is Flashby's reaction. He panics at the sight of the men and pulls out a tiny gun. The gun looked like the sort of weapon an American lady would carry as it can easily fit into a purse. To make matters worse he grabs Ruby and uses her as a shield.

"Stand back you rebels," he says as he waves his gun in the general direction of the men.

His threat would sound more convincing if he didn't stutter and shake as he says it. The men spread out so that they almost surround us.

"Put the gun down, boy. Before you hurt yourself," says a tall stranger in the group.

"Yes, Flashby. Do as he says," James adds, showing more courage than I'd so far thought him capable.

Flashby swings Ruby round to face the tall stranger and for a moment his gun isn't trained on anyone. Ruby grabs his arm and swings it down. The gun goes off. There is a scream of pain and they both fall down.

We rush towards them to find Ruby untangling herself from Flashby's prone body. He is lying their whimpering and cursing. We look down and see he has shot himself in the leg. Not the sort of lesson we had in mind at all. Now what do we do?


	5. Chapter 5

Remember Mary. Part 5

The tall stranger comes over and examines the wound. Flashby is writhing on the ground and howling like a demented puppy.

"Quit yer sniveling, boy," says the tall stranger as he grabs the fallen gun. "It's barely a scratch. This gun is only fit for frightening ladies."

As we look closer at Flashby's wound we can see he is right. There is only a small amount of blood and the tiny bullet is sticking out of his leg like a big thorn. Ruby bends down and quickly pulls the bullet out before Flashby realises what she is doing. More blood, but it is quickly stopped by a folded handkerchief as padding.

"There, Mr. Flashby. You'll be as right as rain in a few days. What do you think you were doing with such a weapon," says Ruby. "You gave me such a fright. You can't go round shooting all the farmhands."

Flashby is still whimpering and not paying attention. Neither James nor Robin choose to challenge Ruby's assertion that these men are nothing more than farmhands.

"Here, I'll give you hand getting him back to the Hall," says Patrick.

The tall stranger also joins us on our walk back, while the other men disappear into the woods.

"This is Michael," says Patrick, introducing the tall stranger. "Michael Collins."

"I'm James, these are Robin, Kate, Delia and Ruby," replies James, not bothering to introduce Flashby, who has fainted and is being carried by Michael and Patrick.

We quiz Michael about his background, but he won't reveal much, other than he is 20 and grew up in Cork. From Patrick and Ruby's reaction to Michael's presence, I suspect he is someone important in one of the movements supporting Irish independence.

When we arrive at the Hall we all go through to the servant's dining room. At first there is alarm when we mention Flashby has been shot. But concern turns to amusement when the full story is revealed. Old Mary fumbles around at the back of a cupboard and brings over a small bottle of green liquid. She gently lifts the stopper and holds the bottle under Flashby's nose. The previously groggy Flashby is now fully awake and once more whining about the pain.

While nearly everyone's attention is on Flashby's wound and seeing it is properly cleaned and dressed, I notice Ruby, Patrick and Michael leaving the room. I decide to follow them.

It doesn't take me long to realise Ruby is taking them on a tour of the main downstairs rooms. She's taking an awful risk. Although Lord Kilmacowen isn't expected back from Sligo for another few hours, Lady Kilmacowen will be in her sitting room at the other end of the long corridor, and could come out at any minute. And why would Patrick and Michael be interested in these rooms? There's little of value apart from some large paintings of Lord Kilmacowen's long dead ancestors.

I'm so busy watching out for Lady Kilmacowen or Mrs. Fletcher, I don't realise I've been spotted by the three I'm following. Some spy I'd make!

Ruby grabs my arm and bustles me into the room they've just entered and closes the door.

"What do you think you're doing, Delia?" she says in a hushed voice.

"I was going to ask you the same question, Ruby," I reply.

"Would you believe us if we said we are art lovers and have always wanted to admire these fine paintings on the walls," says Michael.

My snort of derision escapes before I think about a prudent reply. Perhaps I would be safer not knowing what is going on. But then Jacky Faber wouldn't take the cowards way out, so I won't either. I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

"I didn't think so. Are you an Irish patriot? Do you believe in an Ireland free of English rule?"

"Yes," I reply, although in reality I've never thought much about it. Working 15 hours a day six or seven days a week doesn't give you much time to think about these things.

"Good. Then we can use your help. The English government has finally agreed to change the law so that Ireland can gain its independence. But the law change must be passed by both the House of Commons and the House of Lords. It seems certain the House of Commons will agree to the change, but there are many lords who oppose it. Lord Kilmacowen is one of the more vocal opponents to an independent Ireland. He has invited some of those lords who are not yet decided on the matter here over Christmas. With the help of some of his supporters, he obviously intends to sway the undecided lords in his favour. We need to know who they are and how they intend to vote before the House of Lords votes on the law change in January."

"So what do you want me to do?" I reply.

"Keep you ears open while the lords are here. Check the waste baskets for notes or letters. Anything you hear or find may be useful," says Patrick.

"And what do I do if I find anything?" I ask.

"Tell or give it to Ruby. She'll see it safely delivered to one of us," replies Patrick.

I'm not certain at what point of our conversation I agree to do this, but by the time the four of us return to the kitchen I feel I now have a new purpose in life.

We enter the kitchen to find James has escorted Flashby to his room to recover. Kate is in deep conversation with Robin, who seems more confident now Flashby has left the room. Everyone else is busy with their chores. I must go and prepare the study for Lord Kilmacowen's return.

I say goodbye to Patrick and Michael and leave them with Ruby, who will provide them with a drink before they leave. I head for the study to light the fire and lamps.


	6. Chapter 6

Remember Mary. Part 6

The next few days are hectic, and thankfully Flashby leaves on Christmas Eve. James and Robin keep to themselves and we don't see much of them, although I suspect Kate and Robin secretly meet when she gets the chance.

At first we are busy making all the preparations for the arrival of the twenty guests, and after that, tending to their every need. There are twelve lords from different parts of Ireland, eight of whom have brought their wives. Fortunately some of the guests have also brought one or two of their own servants. Although these servants only tend to their own employer's needs, they at least relieve us of some of the extra chores.

In the evening the servants dining room is packed and it is standing room only when we celebrate our own Christmas dinner. For once, Lord Kilmacowen has not been stingy with providing food for his servants. I suspect this is done more to impress his guests than any genuine concern for his servants' well-being.

After the Christmas festivities are over, the atmosphere changes to a more businesslike mood. Discrete meetings are held between small groups of lords; raised voices when disagreements break out. The atmosphere is very sombre and tense.

In complete contrast, Lady Kilmacowen is busy entertaining her lady guests in the other wing of the Hall. Their conversation is light and carefree.

I'm mindful of my promise to listen out for information. At first when I enter a room to serve drinks or clear things away, the men's conversation stops or quickly changes to another subject. After a while, though, the men grow careless and start to ignore my presence. My eavesdropping picks up that three of the lords are refusing to side with Lord Kilmacowen and his supporters to block the Irish Home Rule law being passed by the House of Lords.

Of the other nine lords here as guests, at least three were already staunch allies of Lord Kilmacowen, and were invited here to help sway the other lords. So up to six lords have been persuaded to join Lord Kilmacowen. I make a mental note of who they are, intending to write it down later and give to Ruby.

Searching the rubbish doesn't provide much, but I keep a few scraps of paper to pass on. My biggest success is when I'm serving afternoon tea to Lady Kilmacowen and her guests. Although each lady professes not to understand the political leanings of her husband, it is clear each woman has a good grasp on her husband's viewpoint and why he holds it. Whereas I had a simple list of supporters names gleaned from the men's meetings, I now have a more complete set of information.

That evening I write down what I can remember, and hide the notes in my copy of Bloody Jack. I go downstairs to join the other servants for our evening meal, only to discover Ruby is not there. Everyone is abuzz with the news. Ruby has been arrested and taken away by the police.

It takes me sometime to find out the full story as everyone wants to add their own opinion. What is certain is that Ruby was cleaning in a guest's bedroom and was caught by his valet looking through some personal papers. The valet immediately marched Ruby to his employer, who in turn spoke severely to Lord Kilmacowen. Given the circumstances, Lord Kilmacowen had no choice but to call the police who have taken Ruby away.

I start to panic. What if Ruby confesses under interrogation to being a spy for Michael and Patrick? What if she gives the police my name as an accomplice? What if …

I dash upstairs and place my green shawl outside my bedroom window. The signal my father had said would call Patrick to my aid. I return downstairs, stopping half way to rethink what I've done. Am I endangering Patrick by sending the signal? Would he see it in the dark? What would Jacky Faber do?

It is the last question that steadies my nerves. I must alert Patrick in case he's unaware of Ruby's arrest. When I think clearly, it is far more likely Ruby would be bullied into given them Patrick and Michael's names than mine. But then, Patrick and Michael are able to escape and go where they like, while I'm trapped here.

I go back downstairs and have my meal. Afterwards I make an excuse and leave the room earlier than I normally do. Kate left some ten minutes ahead of me.

To add to my problems, I enter our room to discover Kate is sat on her bed with the copy of Bloody Jack open, staring at the papers I hid inside.

"What are these, Delia?" she asks.

"Just some notes," I reply, hoping Kate's reading hasn't developed far enough to understand what is written on the notes.

"What do they say? This one seems to be a list of names," she persists.

"Yes, just people from the story," I lie.

"Really? Is Lord Kilmacowen mentioned in the story?" she says as she points to his name in the list.

I hesitate before answering. I could continue to lie, which would only raise her suspicion. Or I could tell her the truth and hope she won't report me to Liam or Mrs. Fletcher. I make my choice.

"Actually, the names are not from the story. They're the names of Lord Kilmacowen's guests and some other details. You remember meeting Patrick and Michael just before Christmas? They asked me to give them this list."

Kate sits on her bed for a while not knowing what to say.

"You know what would happen if Lord Kilmacowen finds out?" she says at last.

"Yes. But he won't find out unless you tell on me."

"Oh. I'd never do that. But how do we get this list to Patrick and Michael."

I'm relieved that not only did she say she'd not betray me, but that she said _we_ rather than _you_ when referring to passing on my notes.

"That could be a problem. Ruby was to take them. I'm hoping Patrick will see my signal."

I draw the curtain back to show Kate my shawl hanging out the window. I get the fright of my life when I do. There's a pair of eyes looking through our window.


	7. Chapter 7

Remember Mary. Part 7

I fall back in surprise and Kate manages to stifle a scream. By the time I pick myself up off the floor, I recognise those eyes as belonging to Patrick O'Connell. My heart is still pounding as I open the window.

"Patrick! We're three storeys up. How did you get up here? Come in, but be quiet."

"Well good evening to you, Miss Burns. It's a grand evening for a stroll, wouldn't you say? And Miss Hargadon, how are you this wonderful winter's night?" he whispers as he squeezes through the small window, handing me my shawl in the process.

Kate give a short smile but doesn't answer. It's very cramped with three of us in here, and Kate slides onto her bed, while Patrick and I sit on my bed.

"Well isn't this cosy," he says.

Despite his light-hearted banter I can see his is armed and alert for any danger.

"Ruby has been arrested," I say, not knowing how to break the news gently. "She was caught going through one of the guest's private papers."

"I wondered why she didn't meet me tonight. I'll get some of the lads and see what we can do. If they've taken her to the local police station, then we might be able to spring her before dawn. But if they've moved her to Sligo, then we've got a problem. As much as I'd love to chat, I'd best get going."

"Here, take these notes I've made. They've got most of the information you were wanting," I reply.

"Oh, Mary. You're an angel from heaven," he says as he looks at the papers.

He turns and gives me a huge kiss. The sort of kiss that leaves you wanting more. In my giddy state I mumble something like 'take care' as he leaves the way he came. Kate shuts the window behind him and turns towards me.

"Mary Delia Burns! You let that man kiss you! What have you to say for yourself?" admonishes Kate.

"Mmmh …" is all I can reply; my mind lost in the memory of that kiss.

The next few weeks set the direction not only of my fate, but those of Ruby, Kate, Patrick and, indirectly, James Fletcher.

Poor Ruby is charged with attempting to steal from her employer's guests and is brought before a judge in Sligo. Fortunately he is one of the more lenient judges who dismisses the case due to the lack of evidence an actual crime took place. Ruby is freed, but Lord Kilmacowen won't allow her to return to her duties, so she's dismissed.

But Patrick and his friends come to her rescue and buy her a ticket to get to America. After a tearful farewell, and with her few possessions, she sets off on her long journey. First overland to Queenstown on the south coast of Ireland, where the trans-Atlantic ships call. Then on board a great ocean liner to New York and a new life.

As for Kate and I, we become more and more involved with the movement for Irish independence. We will never know for certain what effect the information I collected and handed to Patrick had on events. But Patrick says it helped the independence cause, even though Lord Kilmacowen and his supporters in the House of Lords manage to postpone the Irish Home Rule law for two years.

As we become more active in the independence cause, Patrick and I become closer and start courting. Kate has finally stopped pining for Robin, who returned to school and, despite his promise, has never written.

We see James some weekends, and learn he is romantically involved with the daughter of his headmaster. I strongly suspect the headmaster is unaware of their liaison. Anyway, James makes no secret he would like to ask for her hand in marriage once he finishes his studies in June. How he expects to support a wife is beyond me, but he seems confident he'll be able to. Mrs. Fletcher has managed to pay the school fees for boarding school all these years, so there must be some money in the Fletcher family.

By now Kate can read my Bloody Jack book almost unaided, and we often spend evenings in our room discussing Jacky Faber, and making up adventures. It's all good fun and it beats sitting in the servant's dining room listening to poor old Mary's gradually worsening cough. I can't help feeling she'll be lucky to be still with us by spring.

The 10 March is an important day in my life for several reasons. Firstly it is the day Patrick tells me he wishes to ask my father for my hand in marriage; if that is alright with me. Which it most certainly is. I just hope father doesn't frown upon Patrick's involvement with the independence movement. I know he would hit the roof if he found out I was involved too.

Secondly, and sadly, it was the day old Mary finally succumbed to her illness. A more generous lord would have paid for a doctor to tend to her before her illness became so bad. If nothing else, Mary's passing made me realise I could not work for such a harsh and selfish employer much longer.

And thirdly, my dearest friend Margaret tells me she intends to join her elder brother and two sisters in America in a few weeks. They have been in New York for a couple of years and have encouraged Margaret to join them.

I have been able to see Margaret these last few months when she delivers fresh eggs to the Hall three times a week. She has previously mentioned wanting to go and live and work in New York, but her news catches me by surprise. I go to bed that night with a lot to think about.


	8. Chapter 8

Remember Mary. Part 8

As it turns out, everything seems to fall in place at once. Father agrees Patrick and I may marry, and even suggests we move away from Kilmacowen and try our fortune elsewhere while we're young. Even Patrick thinks it a good idea, and America is the obvious choice. Like hundreds of thousands of Irish men and women before us, we shall leave the country of our birth and head overseas.

Mother wants us to delay leaving until Patrick and I are married, but there isn't time to arrange a wedding before Margaret leaves. Both mother and father, and Margaret's parents, prefer Margaret and I to travel together. So, somewhat reluctantly, my parents agree to miss out on my wedding and allow Patrick and I to join Margaret on her journey.

Our group rapidly expands by one more when I tell Kate. She immediately makes arrangements to join us, saying she has no intention of staying at Kilmacowen Hall after what happened to old Mary.

The next three weeks are a blur. Mrs. Fletcher responds to Kate and my resignation with total indifference. She knows only too well there are many other girls who will leap at the chance of being a maid at the Hall. Neither Kate nor I are indispensable, and Mrs. Fletcher seems to go out of her way to make that fact clear.

At least Kate and I each get a good reference, which will be invaluable when we look for work in America. All that remains is to pack our bags and say farewell to family and friends. In my case my closest friends are coming with me, so it is only my family to whom I need to say goodbye.

As tearful as my family farewells are, I realise that my few months working at the Hall have separated me both physically and emotionally from my family. I am no longer one of them in the same way I once was. There is still the sibling affection between me and my brothers and sisters, but to my parents treat me differently. More like a guest or visitor than their offspring. Perhaps its a sign I'm no longer a girl, but a young woman.

We set off two days before our ship is due to arrive in Queenstown on its way to New York. For someone like me who has never travelled more than a few miles from home, the train ride south is an adventure all of its own. This is the first time I've ridden on a train and I am constantly looking out the window and pointing things out, much to the annoyance of the man sat by the window.

By the end of the first day we reach Dublin, where we are to change trains and catch a night train to Cork. From there it will be only a short train ride to Queenstown.

We have a few hours wait in Dublin which we spend looking around parts of the great city and grabbing a quick bite to eat. While we are eating a familiar face enters the small café. James Fletcher. I suddenly remember his school is on the outskirts of Dublin.

Kate calls to him and he comes over and joins us. He seems pleased to see us although I can't help feeling he's a little sad.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"We're on our way to New York," bubbles Kate excitedly. "Our train leaves Dublin in two hours time."

"Oh, that's nice. Lucky you," he replies in a tone that suggests he thinks otherwise.

"And what are you doing in the city at this time of day?" I ask. "Won't you be missed at school?"

"No. I've been suspended from school," he replies glumly.

Our light hearted conversation changes in an instance.

"Why?" I ask.

"Well I was seeing the headmaster's daughter, Mary, behind his back. It was all working out fine until she came down with pneumonia and had to be taken to the hospital. But it was too late and the doctors couldn't do anything to save her. Before she died she asked to see me, and her father agreed I could. Unfortunately he witnessed us expressing our love for each other, although he said nothing to either of us at the time.

"Her funeral was last week and as soon as the ceremony was over I was summoned to the headmaster's study. He all but accused me of being the cause of Mary's death, and seemed to take delight in expelling me from school. I don't think my mother will have received his letter yet, and I'm not looking forward to her reaction when she does."

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

"I don't know. I've some money saved, but I can't afford to stay at the Black Harp Inn for much longer. I suppose I'll have to look for a job."

"Well I hope it all turns out right for you, James," I say, not knowing what else to say.

Our food arrives and James makes an excuse to leave.

A few hours later we are on board the night train to Cork. It's been a long and eventful day and I'm not the only one ready for some sleep. Margaret and Kate are sat on the seat opposite and are already asleep. I lean against Patrick and he puts his arm around my shoulder. It is a wonderful feeling and I'd like to savour this closeness a while longer, but I'm so tired that I too fall asleep.

I wake during the night to the sound of voices. I don't know how long I've been asleep but the train is still moving, so it can only be a few hours at most. I'm still in a half daze listening to Patrick talking to someone. Suddenly the other voice registers in my mind and I wake with a start.

"James!"


	9. Chapter 9

Remember Mary. Part 9

"I decided to join you. I scribbled a quick letter to my mother, packed my things and just managed to catch this train. I didn't have time to find you at the station in Dublin, but I managed to find your carriage at the last stop. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind in the least. Welcome. I just hope you know what you're doing. It seems very rash to just leave at a few hours notice. Won't your mother miss you?"

"I doubt it. She barely tolerates me at the Hall during the school holidays. She is set in her own little world there and I'm only in her way. That's why she and Lord Kilmacowen sent me off to boarding school when they could."

"Why would Lord Kilmacowen want to do that? From my experience of the Kilmacowens they wouldn't spend sixpence if they didn't have to."

The cough and stifled laugh from Patrick warns me there's more to James' story than he told us so far.

"Well I had to be kept out of the way before Lady Kilmacowen started wondering why I looked so like Lord Kilmacowen. My mother is his mistress, you see. I'm the illegitimate son of Lord Kilmacowen."

I sit there dumbfounded and go bright red. I'd never guessed, but now James mentions it, I can see a similarity in his features. Patrick skilfully changes the subject and we continue our hushed discussion on more immediate practical matters. Margaret and Kate sleep through the whole episode.

It is eight o'clock on a bright April morning when we reach Queenstown. Our ship is due to arrive later this morning. I start to feel both nervous and excited. Margaret hugs Kate and I for support.

"I'm so glad you are coming with me," she says. "I could never have made this journey alone."

We soon find the shipping office so James can buy a ticket. We head down to the dock where our tickets are checked and we are ushered to a waiting area for the tender which will ferry us out to our ship. I notice the tender is called _America_ which only serves to heighten my nervous excitement. Even the calm and collected Patrick seems to be swept up in the moment.

Before we know it we are on board the tender and steaming out to the great liner moored in the deeper waters of the bay. I've never thought such a large ship could be built. It is massive.

The tender pulls alongside and we cross a gangway into the great body of the ship. Men in uniform are there to allocate us to cabins and it all seems to be done with great efficiency. Any hope Patrick and I would be assigned cabins near each other are soon quashed. All the single men are allocated cabins in the bow, while single women are in the cabins in the stern. Apparently unmarried passengers travelling third class are not allowed to mix with single members of the opposite sex. At least Margaret, Kate and I share the same cabin.

As we find our way to our cabin I'm rather pleased with myself for knowing all these nautical terms, like bow and stern. Knowledge I've gained by reading Bloody Jack. Jacky Faber would be proud of me.

We only take one wrong turn before we find our cabin. Deck E cabin 146. There are four berths but no window. Still, the cabin looks comfortable enough. A loud deep blast on the ship's horn indicates something is about to happen. Perhaps we are about to sail.

"Come on. Let's leave our things here and go say goodbye to Ireland," says Margaret.

We quickly drop our few bags in the cabin and find our way up to the promenade deck where we can look over the rail as we leave Ireland behind. The three of us shed a few tears as the coast line gets smaller and smaller. I wonder if I'll ever see my homeland again.

Margaret and Kate want to stay there until the last glimpse of Ireland drops over the horizon. In my rush to get here, I'd left my coat in the cabin, so feel a bit chilly out here.

"I'm going back to the cabin to get warm. I'll see you there when you've finished here," I say.

I take a short detour back to the cabin and find the dining room and other facilities on the deck below ours. I feel very proud of myself when I arrive at our cabin without getting lost. I open the door and find there is another girl on one of the top bunks. She's fair haired and about my age.

"Oh! Hello. I didn't know we had another girl sharing with us. I'm Mary; Mary Delia Burns."

"I'm a Mary too, but my friends usually call me Jacky," she says with a warm smile.

"You're English by your accent," I say trying not to overplay the coincidence of her name to a certain character in my one and only novel.

"Yes, but I've lived in Ireland for the last few years," she replies. "Is it alright if I take this bunk. I'll swap if you like."

"It's fine by me. I'm sure Margaret and Kate won't mind."

I don't have time to find out more about Jacky before Margaret and Kate join us. The outgoing Kate is pleased Jacky is with us, while the more reserved Margaret is a little hesitant in her welcome. I share the knowledge of my explorations with the three of them.

We each have a small cupboard and drawer for our things, and a shelf at the end of the bunk for our bags. There isn't enough room for all four of us to unpack at once, so Margaret and I offer to go and explore while Jacky and Kate unpack.

"You didn't seem pleased to see Jacky," I say when Margaret and I are alone. "Is anything wrong?"

"She's English," is all she will say.

"There are a lot of them about. They are not all like Lord Kilmacowen," I add trying to soothe her irrational reaction to Jacky.

"She makes me uncomfortable. Anyway, how many English people do you know?" she says calling my bluff.


	10. Chapter 10

Remember Mary. Part 10 

I know Kate makes an attempt later to find out why Margaret behaves the way she does towards Jacky. Unfortunately she has no better luck than I. At least Margaret is polite to Jacky, and Jacky doesn't seem to mind. So Kate and I don't push Margaret any further on the subject. Instead we settle down to make the most of our grand ocean voyage.

A young steward calls by our cabin to give us details of when meals are served and other information he thinks we need to know. Before he goes I ask him a question that has been burning on my mind. In truth, it is the reason I did a bit of exploring earlier.

"My fiancé is on board. He's berthed in the single men's dormitory. Is there any way I can see him?" I ask.

"Oh no, Miss. That would be most improper," he replies, although I detect he's not telling the complete truth.

Kate also spots the look on his face as he replies. I bet he's after a bribe. Well, we're both out of luck there. I've no money to spare for bribes.

"Oh, but surely there must be a way," simpers Kate. "We wouldn't want to come between two young lovers, would we. You have no idea how grateful I could be if my dear friend Delia could see her young man."

The look he gives clearly shows he has a very good idea of how grateful he'd like Kate to be. What surprises me is that Kate seems eager to agree. I realise her offer of help is not entirely selfless. The young man has clearly caught her fancy.

"The gymnasium is open to all passengers," he says, seeing if the hint of a solution to my question leads to a more concrete offer from Kate. It does.

So Kate now has a late night assignation with George the steward, and I have a means to see Patrick. George even offers to pass messages between Patrick and I so we can conveniently arrive at the gymnasium at the same time.

Margaret raises her eyebrow and tut-tuts at the pair of us, but doesn't say anything more. Jacky just watches from her bunk and chortles at our scheming.

As we discover later, Margaret has a scheme of her own in play. While single men travelling alone are kept apart from us, those travelling in a family group are not. Four cabins down from ours is the Buckley family, among whom is a certain Daniel Buckley, a young man about our age and the object of Margaret's attention. A quiet word with George the steward ensures we are seated at the same table as the Buckley family for our evening meal. Margaret proves more than capable of managing the rest on her own.

The evening meal is earlier than I expected, which I learn from Daniel's father is to discourage third class passengers from partying all night. Not that anyone would actually stop us, but there are families travelling with young children who would undoubtedly wish for some peace and quiet at night. All night parties are apparently the sole domain of first class passengers on the upper decks.

Not that I mind missing any partying. I've my first rendezvous with Patrick at eight o'clock and I've studied the route to the gymnasium until I think I could find it blindfolded. It's a fair distance all the way up to the gymnasium on the Boat deck, and it is normally closed at this time of night. But George told me the lock on the door is faulty and as long as we don't attract anyone's attention, we shouldn't be disturbed.

Kate is also busy getting ready for her meeting with George. They too need to be careful as the ship's crew are not supposed to mix with the passengers; even lowly third class passengers. Both Margaret and I warn Kate to be careful, but I don't think she's listening. But George seems a nice enough young man, and he's not likely to do anything that might lead to a complaint to the purser.

As Margaret has arranged to join the Buckley family for an hour or so, Jacky will be left all on her own. She doesn't show any interest in mixing with the rest of the passengers, although she was friendly to everyone during the evening meal. I promise myself I'll spend some time with her tomorrow and learn more about her … but tonight it is Patrick who is the focus of my attention.

"I'm sorry we are all leaving you like this, Jacky. Would you like to borrow my book. It's a good story," I say pointing to my Bloody Jack book on my bunk as I'm half way out the door.

"Oh, thanks. I didn't pack anything to read," she replies.

I easily find my way to the Boat Deck but reaching the gymnasium proves harder than I expected. There are a lot of passengers about enjoying the clear evening, even if it is a little chilly. As everyone around me are first class passengers dressed in their dinner suits and gowns, I stick out like a sore thumb. I keep to the shadows and eventually reach the gymnasium.

I try the door and find that it isn't locked. I slip inside and close the door behind me. There are no lights on, but the moon and stars provide just enough light to enable me to see. Well almost. I stumble over a piece of equipment I hadn't noticed and let out an oath.

"That's not a very lady like phrase from the future Mrs. O'Connell," comes a voice from the shadows.

"Patrick!"

Patrick comes over to me and before I can say more we are locked in a close embrace. His mouth finds mine and we share a deep and lasting kiss. Being so close to him like this starts to stir my secret garden of desires.

Unfortunately our privacy only lasts about ten minutes before another young couple come into the room. It seems we are not the only ones to be told about the faulty lock on gymnasium door.

"Come on, let's go for a stroll on the deck," says Patrick, as we leave the slightly embarrassed other couple to their probably short lived privacy.

Whereas I had been inclined to slink about in the shadows to avoid being seen, Patrick takes my arm and we stroll openly among the first class passengers, daring any of them to challenge our presence. It is a very pleasant experience and most of the passengers are too busy having a good time to care.

The stewards are another matter though. One pompous steward comes marching over to us.

"What are you doing up here. This area is for first class passengers," he growls.


	11. Chapter 11

Remember Mary. Part 11

"And what makes you think we are not first class passengers," replies Patrick copying the steward's officious tone.

The steward suddenly look a little less sure of himself. He had expected an admission of guilt and a humble apology from us. Instead he has to justify his accusation.

"If you're first class passengers, then I apologise, Mr. … er …? What cabin are you in sir?" he says.

"O'Shaunessy. Cabin B36," replies Patrick without hesitation.

The steward gives a short bow and leaves us in peace. He is obviously going to check on the name of the passengers allocated cabin B36.

"Hadn't we better make ourselves scarce?" I say when Patrick shows no sign of changing the direction of our stroll along the deck.

"No rush. Mr. O'Shaunessy of cabin B36 is propping up the bar at the far end of the first class dining room when I came up here. He wasn't very coherent when he tried to tap me for some money. I doubt he'll be returning to his cabin for a few more hours yet. The steward will find the name and cabin I gave him matches perfectly."

Patrick proves to be right, and we are not interrupted again. It is with some reluctance that we must go our separate ways an hour or so later. Kate, Margaret and I each promised to be back in our cabin by nine-thirty to stop anyone worrying about us.

"Can we meet again tomorrow night?" I ask.

"Yes. I'll find a way to meet you at your cabin. I'm friendly with a couple of the stokers berthed in the dormitory next to ours. One of them has agreed to show me the way to your area through the boiler rooms and crew passageways."

Patrick offers to escort me back to the cabin, but I say it is unnecessary. He would only be stopped by the steward stationed at the entrance to the third class cabins in the stern. One final embrace and kiss and we each go our separate ways.

I make it back to our cabin with a few minutes to spare. Jacky is still on her own and engrossed in my Bloody Jack book. Kate arrives shortly after looking very pleased with herself, but very coy about telling what happened. Margaret is a little late and gives a vague excuse about losing track of the time. She too seems to have had a pleasant evening.

We each share a little of our experiences, but don't go into the same detail we would have if there had been just the three of us in the cabin. I don't want to embarrass Jacky, and Margaret seems hesitant to talk about anything personal in front of her.

Next morning we wake up early and the four of us decide to take a stroll on the promenade deck before breakfast. Officially this is the only outside area where third class passengers are allowed. The view isn't as fine as the one from the Boat Deck, but it is pleasant nonetheless.

Margaret and Kate wander off to the other side of the deck and I find myself alone with Jacky.

"You are very brave travelling alone all the way to America," I say to her.

"Oh, I'm not alone. My intended is travelling with the single men in the bow. He's probably in the same dormitory as your Patrick," she replies.

"Oh, I could ask Patrick to help you meet if you like."

"Thanks, but I don't think that would be right. He's very straight laced and any suggestion from me of an illicit meeting would make him think I'm a wanton hussy. I can wait. Anyway, I have you and Kate and Margaret for company."

From the look on her face I think she would dearly love an illicit meeting, but her young man's opinion of her seems to count for more. It seems a bit sad that she feels so constrained, but I know enough to mind my own business and not judge others by my own standards. After all, until recently I was an Irish rebel. Well, I probably still am, but how that matters now, I don't know.

Margaret disappears shortly after breakfast to spend more time with the Buckley family; Daniel in particular. From the look on Margaret and Daniel's faces, I suspect we won't be seeing much of Margaret for the rest of the journey. Kate was hoping for another meeting with George, but he says he is on duty until very late tonight and won't be able to meet her.

Kate, Jacky and I spend a pleasant few hours talking about Bloody Jack and re-enacting some of the scenes. We end up by discussing what would happen next in the Bloody Jack saga, and we each suggest a plot for a follow up book.

That evening, to my great disappointment, Patrick is caught by one of the stewards right outside our cabin. He is escorted back to his dormitory and we only have time for a quick parting kiss. He winks at me as he leaves, which I take to mean he will try again tomorrow.

Margaret returns later with a contented smile on her face. We quiz her about her day and at first she answers in a very general and vague way. But we persist with our questions and she eventually admits that she is quite taken with Daniel, and his parents approve of her. When we arrive in New York, she has arranged to join the Buckley family in Brooklyn while she finds a job.

Both Kate and I are taken aback by Margaret's statement. We had assumed we would all stay together with her brother and sisters when we arrived. But Margaret reassures us that Kate and I are included in the Buckley's invitation as well, if we wish. Only I need to talk this through with Patrick before I decide.

That night I lie in my bunk reminiscing over the last six months. Of everything that brought me to this place and how different my life has turned out. Some are happy memories, while others are not. I wonder how Ruby is now; I wish I had her address in America so I could contact her.

It is Saturday evening when I next see Patrick. It is not for the want of trying to reach me, he says. It's just that so many of the single men are trying to get to our section of the ship, the purser has doubled the number of stewards at the gates. We are all left in no doubt that third class passengers must stay in the third class parts of the ship. And single men mustn't mix with single women.


	12. Chapter 12

Remember Mary. Part 12

Patrick finally finds a route around all the stewards, although he needed the help of a couple of the stokers he had befriended from the crew dormitory next to his. Anyway, I don't care how he got here, I'm so glad he made it.

Being Saturday the third class passengers are allowed to have a party for an hour or so. We have to provide our own music and entertainment. No string quartet to dance to, or stewards serving drinks for the likes of us. However it is amazing how many passengers have musical instruments, and some can even play them. So we enjoy a good dance in an area cleared for us in the dining room.

With people from all over Europe on board, the music and dancing is a real international affair. I spend the entire time dancing with Patrick, while Kate manages one dance with George before he has to return to work. Jacky does a few solo dances. While I see the Buckley family, I don't see Margaret or Daniel the whole time.

By 9 o'clock the party is breaking up as those with children retire for the night. It is also time for me to say goodnight to Patrick. He intends to return to his dormitory the way he came. I walk with him to the small door marked 'crew only' not far from our cabin. One last passionate kiss and he slips through the door while nobody is looking.

Margaret returns to our cabin a short while later but refuses to say where she's been. From her flushed cheeks and slightly rumpled dress she's clearly been with Daniel. I just hopes she's not done something she'll regret later. The four of us talk for a while before settling down to sleep.

We can't have been asleep long when there is a huge commotion outside our cabin. The next thing we know there is someone knocking on our door. Kate opens the door and a steward hands four life jackets to her and says we must put them on. We try to ask more questions, but the steward simply says we should put on the life jacket and wait for further instructions.

Like everyone else we are puzzled by what is going on. It doesn't take long for rumours to start flying around the corridors. Someone notices the throb-throb of the ship's engines has stopped … perhaps we've broken down, suggests a man. The stewards are noticeably absent. Some of the passengers go up the stairs where they find three stewards blocking the way.

"Just go back to your cabins and wait," says one of the stewards.

We wait nervously for about 30 minutes. The life jackets are uncomfortable and Jacky takes hers off. Then Daniel comes to our cabin and says he and his family are going to find someone in charge and did Margaret want to come with them. Margaret looks at us, uncertain what to do.

"Go with them Margaret. You can come back and tell us what is going on," I say.

I'm in two minds whether to go with her, but if anything is wrong I don't doubt for a minute that Patrick will come looking for me. He'll never find me if I'm not here. Kate feels likewise about George. She is confident he'll come and tell us what is going on as soon as he can.

We wait another 15 minutes by which time everyone's concern is starting to turn into panic. Someone notices a slight forward tilt to the deck. Neither Margaret nor the Buckleys have returned, but a man passing by our cabin says there is chaos in the stairwells. Nobody can pass either way.

What turns our deepening concern into outright alarm is when Patrick and James come through the 'crew only' door. They have come from the bow through the boiler rooms. Both are soaked to the skin and shivering.

"The ship is sinking. The bow is under water already. The boiler rooms are flooding. We must get to a lifeboat. Now!"

I hand two blankets off our bunks to Patrick and James. James leads the way while Patrick grabs my hand and Kate and Jacky follow. But we can't get far. The crush of people now making their way to the upper decks makes progress painfully slow.

Then there is a shout from up ahead that all the lifeboats have gone. There are none left for us. I turn to Patrick and he looks at Kate and Jacky.

"What are we to do?" says Kate.

For some reason I feel remarkably calm. Jacky looks calm as well. I'd expected panic, but my mind is clear.

"Let's go back to the cabin. We have a few minutes. We can't go any further here," says Patrick.

Once out of the crush of people I can breath more normally. Suddenly Kate sees George and he comes running over to us.

"We must find something that floats," he says.

We search around but find nothing useful. The wooden hatch cover near our cabin is to heavy to lift to the upper decks. Without tools we can't unscrew doors or other fittings. We look at each other in resignation. The deck now has a sharper tilt, and things are starting to slide forward. There are ominous creaks and groans as the ship gradually fills with water.

I wrap my arms around Patrick and Kate and George do the same. This is it, we silently acknowledge to each other. Our quiet embrace is shattered by a shout from James.

"Jacky! But …", he cries.

"Jaimy!" she replies with a smile.

"But you're dead!" he stutters.

Before she can reply there is an almighty crash and a wall of freezing water engulfs us. I try desperately to cling to Patrick as my world turns into turmoil. I struggle for air as the water surrounds us. I've held my breath for ages but can't hold on much longer.

Just when I can't hold my breath any more, I see a bright light and Jacky reaching out for me. Standing beside her are James, Patrick and Kate.

"Did I ever tell you of the tale of the Curse of the Blue Tattoo," she says.

[The end]

Afterword:

At 11.40 pm on the 14 April 1912 _RMS Titanic_ struck an iceberg on her maiden voyage to New York. She sank at 2.20 am the next morning. Of the 2,223 passengers and crew on board only 711 were saved.

Margaret Devaney was one of those who survived; Mary Delia Burns, Kate Hargadon and Patrick O'Connell did not. Their bodies were either never found, or were among the many unidentified bodies buried at sea by the crew of the _Mackay-Bennett_ a few days later.

Margaret's escape from the _Titanic_ was not without drama. She was pushed onto one of the last lifeboats to be launched (boat C). The boat became stuck and the crew needed a knife to cut it free. Margaret supplied the knife (a scene briefly re-enacted in the 1997 film _Titanic_). She never had the opportunity to return for Delia and Kate, but had she done so would have almost certainly died with them.

After her rescue, Margaret lived in New York until her death in 1974. She often gave talks to civic and school groups about her experiences on the _Titanic_ and frequently mentioned her close friends Delia and Kate.

In memory of Mary Delia Burns, Kate Hargadon and Patrick O'Connell, who all died on board the _Titanic_ in the early hours of 15 April 1912, aged 17 years.


End file.
